


Value of Words

by ShaneShenanigans



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, M/M, break-up/re-kindling fic, fluffs, lots of diaglogue wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 20:49:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3461534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaneShenanigans/pseuds/ShaneShenanigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was over, it had to be. He didn't want it to be, but he didn't know what else to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Value of Words

**Author's Note:**

> A break-up/re-kindling fic is something I’ve been meaning to write for these two for a while. I didn’t necessarily mean to do it quite in this manner (the cheating thing is so cliche?) but this is what came out. Plus, given Velelan’s character archetype and alignment, it seemed plausible that he’d be prone to this sort of thing.
> 
> Anyway, this thing wrote the entirety of itself in a single night. So, it’s probably kind of… shaky? I did read through it twice, but somewhat absently. I may or may not fix it up more alter it. Criticism welcome, as always.

He’d been rough before. Not since—… it had been a while. But it wasn’t new. When he crushed his lips against those unsuspecting ones, there was no going back unless he was thrown off. He felt the hesitation, the surprise, the hands hovering just above his shoulders as if deciding whether or not to push him away.  
  
Unwelcome tears stung the wrinkles of his eyes and he tightened them shut further, denying their existence as well as that of the screaming in the back of his head.  
  
You idiot. _You idiot._  
  
The hands that threatened to push him away settled gently on his shoulders, but nothing else was returned. He didn’t think this was serious.  
  
Wanting to scream, he grabbed the other man by his shoulders, spun him around, pushed him against the wall and slammed his body into him, making sure every inch was felt and dragged against him. This is serious.  
  
He could feel the others breath growing faster, heavier against his neck.  
  
“Maker—.”  
  
 _No._ He didn’t allow him to speak, held his head by the back of his neck, and pushed his tongue in-between the parted, unprepared lips that dared to try to tell him the truth.  
  
Something inevitable boiled over in the other man, and he felt his hips grabbed suddenly, and he was spun around like a doll and had his back slammed hard against the wall himself.  
  
 _What do you think you’re doing?_ That’s what his eyes said. They were full of confusion, maybe fear, but also… _want_. His lips were parted and his breath was hot, just inches away. His lips didn’t speak, but they acted.  
  
His kiss was slower, perfect tempo, like silk sheets being dragged slowly off your body by another after a hot night wrapped within them.  
  
The hands, still on his hips, the ones that had taken control, slipped under his top with ease and traveled up, taking the cloth with them. A thigh found its way between his legs, and angled up against him, triggering a low moan against his mouth.  
  
He tore his mouth away, and pushed him back in the direction of his bed, not letting their bodies detach for a moment, because that would mean the end. One step out of this passion, one wrong move and he would lose it.  
  
They crashed into the sheets, satin, and pillows. He cried out in surprise and was hushed with a kiss. That kiss turned into a trail of kisses, down his neck, then further and continuing down until there was no turning back.  
  
His eyelids relaxed, his hands unclasped and unfolded, his lips and tongue tingled against hot, forbidden flesh, and his mind drifted into a place where this wasn’t as wrong as it was.  
  
o-o-o-o  
  
 _Flowers._  
  
There were flowers in his bed, so many different kinds and colors. All in bloom, vibrant and large and abundant. There couldn’t have been a single species he recognized.  
  
His hair was sticking in every direction, his cheeks were still flushed and he could smell the sex on himself. And yet… there were flowers in his bed. He was devoid of emotion for them. He… hated them.  
  
“There you are! You look awful!” The voice tore him to pieces. He felt like he was going to explode. He only saw boots approaching him. Boots laced with glistening silver. “About yesterday, in the library, I… wanted to apologi—,”  
  
“I slept with someone.” Velelan interrupted, and the shockwave put the former conversation down.  
  
“I beg your pardon?” The sneer on his face alone was enough to make him want to take it back, but he forced himself to meet his eyes, and repeat himself.  
  
“I slept with someone. Look at me.” He gestured to himself. The state of his hair, his undress.  
  
“I see.” Venom, poison, seething anger. His words were quickly becoming toxic. “So this is your answer? This is how you—…”  
  
He was backing away. Velelan wasn’t even sure he knew he was doing it, but he was leaving. “Forget it.” He cut himself off, and the look on his face then was… worse than anger. Had he not been so far away, it would have broken his heart. Reduced him to a pile of tears and pathetic apologies. But, he wasn’t here.  
  
“Keep those.” Dorian turned on his heel, and walked toward the exit. He stopped in front of the half-opened door, and turned his head back half-way. “I believed you better than this.” He said,  walked out, and slammed the door hard behind him.  
  
Velelan stayed where he was, in that spot, until his legs gave out, and then fell to his knees.  
  
 **o-o-o-o-o-o One Week Earlier o-o-o-o-o-o-o**  
  
Things had been rocky for days. He knew he was partially to blame but he didn’t understand how or why talking to Dorian had become such a chore. Not because he felt that way, but simply because it was.  
  
When Dorian had said he no longer wanted to talk about it, Velelan had expected that meant he was going to put it behind him, and that he expected Velelan to. But both of those expectations were wrong— Dorian was wrong that Velelan would put it behind him, and Velelan was wrong to believe Dorian’s words meant putting it behind him.  
  
They’d fought, in short. About so many stupid, little things. But a lot of stupid little things added up into one big thing, and they were things that Velelan couldn’t let go of. Some of Dorian’s behavior and his manner of showing affection was just intolerable. What had been cute and appealing at first had now gotten to him, he’d questioned it, and he couldn’t stop.  
  
Velelan never said that. Not in so many words, but he couldn’t stop brining it up passive aggressively and that’s when things started to go sour. After the first time, Dorian started to complain about him to, until they had both given each other something to fight about.  
  
It was stupid, but someone had told Velelan a long time ago that fighting in a relationship was healthy. He thought for sure it was just a sign that they were becoming more involved with each other.  
  
But then, Dorian stopped being there. He was there, always around, always at an arm’s reach, but he was distant.  
  
And then, one afternoon…  
  
“Why do you always criticize every little thing I do? Honestly, you sound like my mother.”  
  
Velelan laughed, but sarcasm came out with it. “Me criticizing you? I can’t wake up in the morning without you saying there’s something unappealing about the way I look.”  
  
It wasn’t a fight yet. It was banter, playful, but the uncertainty of their relationship in the days before added venom to the words, until one of them snapped.  
  
“Everything is unappealing about the way you look.”  
  
Velelan knew. He was kidding, they were joking around, but there was a tiny serpent of anger still swimming around in his mind. Unable to hold back, he blurted it out with every ounce of venom he had.  
  
“Why are you with me then?”  
  
“What?”  
  
No turning back now.  
  
“I said, then why are you with me?”  
  
“More criticism? This is exactly what I need.”  
  
“Oh, yes, my most sincere apologies, I forgot. It’s always about what you need.”  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“I might as well be your slave.”  
  
There was a pause, utter silence, during which Velelan knew he’d gone way, way too far. But then, Dorian went much, much further.  
  
“Well, maybe you ought to be. Your ears tell that story well enough.”  
  
When he looked at Dorian with his fiercest glare, he could see the regret washing over him in an instant. His eyes doubled in size, his face twisted into one of pure anguish.  
  
Slavery was a touchy topic between them. One they’d discussed before, calmly. One Velelan had been slowly influencing and changing Dorian’s opinion on. For him to revert back so quickly was just…  
  
“I— kaffas, I didn’t mean—.”  
  
Velelan had stormed out of the room before he knew his feet were moving.  
  
 That wasn’t the end, though. Dorian found Velelan only an hour later. He caught him walking on his way from the stables back to his quarters.  
  
“Please, listen to me.”  
  
“I don’t have to do what you say, Dorian.” Velelan snorted. “I’m not your elven slave.”  
  
“I know that, I didn’t… that wasn’t…”  
  
“Just leave me be.”  
  
“Would you stop acting this way!” Dorian was right beside him, but he didn’t want to touch him. Even as Velelan kept walking away and wouldn’t stay put and listen, he couldn’t bring himself to put his hands on him, to insist that he do anything. “I didn’t mean what I said, at all.” He said, amidst trying to keep up with Velelan’s pace. “I… you said it first!”  
  
“Oh, there it is. Now you’re blaming me.”  
  
Dorian stopped walking. Velelan heard two sets of footsteps turn into one and he knew he’d stopped.  
  
“Is this what you want?” Dorian called after him.  
  
Velelan stopped, sighing audibly as he turned around, stomping his foot in frustration.  
  
“To walk away. Do you want me to leave? Because I know I was wrong, and I will.” Dorian had that face. That face he made when he was trying to be collected, strong, but in reality he wanted to break down.  
  
Velelan felt himself soften. He wasn’t happy about it, but he knew Dorian wasn’t just guilting him. He was serious. And in truth, Velelan was angry, but giving away Dorian was the furthest thing from what he wanted. He wished he knew what it was he did want.  
  
“No.” He said. “I’m… sorry.”  
  
“Don’t be—,”  
  
“No, shut up. Just, stop talking for a minute.” He gathered himself. “You were being racist back there and that was fucked up.” He crossed his arms, looking off at some grass that flitted back and forth in the wind a few feet away. “But, I knew I was baiting you, and that was fucked up too.”  
  
“Amatus—.”  
  
“I don’t want you to go.” Velelan looked straight at him now. He meant so much more than to just deny Dorian’s offer. He didn’t even realize it fully himself, until that moment. But he’d felt like he’d been losing Dorian for weeks.  
  
“I don’t want you to go.” He repeated, softer this time, as the realization of the truth of his words flooded into his mind. Only a few empty moments passed before Dorian’s arms were around him.  
  
“I’m not going anywhere.” The words were muffled against his hair, followed by kisses to the top of his head. That made Velelan laugh against Dorian’s chest, because Velelan was taller and Dorian kissing the top of his head was a little bit of a feat.  
  
“I’ll make it up to you, what I said.” He pulled Velelan tightly against him.  
  
“You’ll do more than just make it up to me.” Velelan said back, and it came out less fiercely than intended due to the fact that his voice was muffled in Dorian’s chest. “We’re going to have a serious talk.”  
  
He felt Dorian smile against his hair. “You and your talks.”  
  
“At least mine are about something more important than whether or not I hang my robes.”  
  
“Good point.” Dorian stepped back, smiling with his hands on Velelan’s shoulders. “Silly of me really. Why should you need to hang your robes when I’m here to do it for you?”  
  
“You’re horrible.” Velelan grinned, and shoved his hands off his shoulders so that he grab him by the collar, pull himself forward, and kiss him.  
  
 **o-o-o Present o-o-o**  
  
He wanted to shurk his responsibilities, especially those that involved seeing _him_ , but it wasn’t like his job was unimportant. Or, was it? Did anyone really need him here anymore? He’d long since used the mark to close all of the located rifts, and no one was speaking up about any more of then having been located. Without a use for this thing on his hand, what was the value of him?  
  
 _He_ wasn’t there in the war room this time around. That wasn’t a surprise, nor unpleasant, nor did it strike Leliana or Josephine as odd. Since the war ended, sometimes one of the three didn’t attend due to being busy with other things. When the task isn’t saving the world, things become less dire in general.  
  
Either way, Velelan was thankful for it. He hadn’t run into him since the incident, and he didn’t know what he would say to him yet.  
  
He was the last to exit the war room, and he dragged behind a considerable amount. When Josephine greeted someone on her way out with a pleasant “Good afternoon lieutenant” he didn’t think anything of it. But when he pushed the doors open and walked through himself and saw him standing there, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. His expression was frightfully calm, and for a moment, Velelan thought his presence was unrelated.  
  
He pushed himself off the wall, equally calmly, and ambled over to stand in front of Velelan, who had frozen in curiosity, wonder, or confusion. He stood there for about ten seconds, looking as if he was going to say something.  
  
Velelan waited, nervous, not ready to talk about any of it but it was staring him in the face, literally.  
  
He didn’t have to talk about it. Before he could even flinch at the way Krem’s arm moved he’d taken a full-blown fist to the jaw and was knocked off his feet. He hit the floor with his head hanging, and moaned in pain. Josephine and Leliana were already out of sight, and he was actually somewhat thankful for that.  
  
Krem didn’t say a word. He just turned, and walked away, leaving Velelan there on the ground, staring at the drops of blood on the floor that had fallen from his cracked lip.  
  
He needed to talk to Cullen.  
  
o-o-o-o  
  
He declined to tell the healer what had happened, and left him in the dark all together. He wasn’t in the mood to make up some story, and he wasn’t going to tell everyone that Krem had assaulted the Inquisitor.  
  
But, when the healer was done, there was still evidence visible on his face, and while he could comfortably move his jaw and speak again, there was still pain. Looks like he’d have to come up with a story after all. Times like these, being Varric must’ve come in handy.  
  
He found Cullen in his office, and thankfully he appeared to be alone. He walked in before Cullen noticed him, as he seemed spaced out, staring down at his desk intensely.  
  
He’d fully entered the room, and Cullen still hadn’t noticed him yet.  
  
He waited a few moments, and then cleared his throat.  
  
Cullen looked up slowly, as if he were expecting one of his subordinates, and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of Velelan.  
  
“Dear Andraste— what are you…” He sighed heavily, angrily, and looked away. “Why are you here?”  
  
Great, Cullen was angry with him too. Well, he should have expected that.  
  
“I…” Velelan paused. “I needed to apologize.”  
  
Cullen snorted.  
  
“When I came to you… I’d forgotten about Krem.”  
  
Cullen shook his head, scoffed. “Doesn’t matter, not sure we were getting anywhere anyway.”  
  
“You told him, then?”  
  
Cullen looked up, and blinked. “Told him? Do you think I’m insane or just… really brave?”  
  
Velelan paused, confused. “You said you hadn’t gotten anywhere yet. Surely he wasn’t that angry with you considering the two of you weren’t…”  
  
Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re probably right. But it still feels unfaithful.”  
  
“So…” Velelan paused to take that in. “You didn’t tell Krem we…”  
  
“Maker, no!” Cullen barked again. “Though I know I have to if I want whatever it is we were working at to get anywhere.”  
  
“He knows.” Velelan said.  
  
“What?” Cullen’s face and voice were panicked.  
  
“I don’t know how, but I can’t think of any other reason he’d punch me in the face this morning.”  
  
“Oh…” Cullen finally seemed to notice the bruise on his lower cheek. “I see.”  
  
“His dislocated my jaw, actually. I just came from a healer.”  
  
“Oh, I see.” Cullen repeated himself, now looking down quizzically at his desk like he had been when Velelan walked in.  
  
Velelan took in a breath, and let it out slowly as he scratched the back of his head. He ambled over to Cullen’s desk, and leaned against it, crossing his arms and his feet at the ankle.  
  
“Anyway, like I said, I came to apologize.”  
  
Cullen didn’t say anything.  
  
Velelan shook his head. Memories of that night, memories he’d formerly been ignoring, were crashing back into his mind like waves against rocks. “I was so angry. So… blinded by it. If you’d seen my eyes—,”  
  
Cullen chuckled nervously, which was comforting. “I think you may have grabbed me to quickly. I barely saw that it was you.”  
  
Tears pricked at the corners of Velelan’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
Cullen shook his head. “You’re not the only one to blame. If I’d been stronger, I would have stopped you. I guess, in a way, I feel something for you.”  
  
“Cullen.” Velelan looked over his shoulder, with wide eyes.  
  
“Don’t give me that look.” Cullen scoffed. “I haven’t given up on Krem, even if he does know. I’ll fix it.”  
  
Slightly disappointed, Velelan looked away.  
  
“Anyway, I thought… I mean, what about Dorian?”  
  
The sound of his name was like glass shattering with the splinters piercing his heart.  
  
“That’s done.” Velelan said, and pushed away from the desk. Cullen watched him go to leave with surprise in his eyes, not sure what to say.  
  
“Do you… want to talk about it?”  
  
Velelan shook his head. “I’m sorry again.” He said at the doorway. “A leader shouldn’t behave that way.”  
  
“You’re damn right they shouldn’t.” Cullen answered, and after that, there was a silent pause. His tone softened. “I’m sorry for… it being over.” He said, carefully, quietly.  
  
Velelan had to leave, and did so without a word because the last thing he needed was for his general and advisor to see him completely lose control.  
  
 **o-o-o-o-o Three Days Earlier o-o-o-o-o-o**  
  
Velelan stared at his feet on the ground. Dorian was getting dressed, and both of them were silent. Everything was strange, and wrong. Dorian getting dressed in itself was strange, and wrong. He never got dressed directly after sex. They always held each other, or spent a few hours after. But, Dorian had just gotten up after, without a word, and started putting his clothes back on.  
  
Not that it was a huge surprise. The sex had been equally awkward. It started out passionate and wanting but turned into something of a chore half-way through, at least on Velelan’s side. And Dorian didn’t talk. He always had some silly thing to say during sex, occasionally destroying the mood. But this time he hadn’t said a word.  
  
“Dorian.” Velelan said, just in a mumble, before he even knew he was speaking. “Are we all right?”  
  
“Sorry?” Dorian behaved as if he hadn’t heard him, and Velelan had the urge to throw ice shards at him.  
  
“I said, are we all right?” He glared.  
  
Dorian seemed to catch wind of his seriousness, and sighed. “I’ve… just had a lot on my mind.”  
  
“Like what?” Velelan asked, relief washing over him. Dorian was going to talk to him, finally.  
  
“Just, things, you know.” Then he started to shrug it off, and Velelan found himself crushed. “I just need to sort some things out in my own head. I’m sorry for being distant.”  
  
“Oh.” The apology was nice, and a surprise. Velelan took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He knew he had to be strong, and make it through whatever was happening in Dorian’s head. It must’ve been something he had to work out on his own.  
  
Velelan was glad when, instead of leaving once dressed, Dorian walked over, and sat down next to him on the bed. Velelan’s heart beat picked up when he did, and while he found comfort in the way Dorian kissed his temple, one thing kept running through his head.  
  
 _Say Amaus. Please say Amatus._  
  
He just needed to hear it.  
  
But Dorian didn’t say anything else.  
  
o-o-o-o  
  
“Inquisitor!” A voice rung out from half-way down the main hall, and Velelan recognized it. Smiling slightly amused, he watched she hurriedly walked the hall, nearly running into someone and apologizing quickly before continuing toward him.  
  
“Ah, sorry to bother you.” Harding appeared in front of him, and straightened herself. “A letter came for Dorian… I… thought you could give it to him?” She chuckled awkwardly and held it out.  
  
Velelan smirked. “Am I your subordinate now?”  
  
She laughed, slightly, and he appreciated that she never doubted that he was joking. “Sorry, he makes me kind of nervous. His presence is so strong and—”  
  
“He’s gorgeous?” Velelan offered.  
  
“That’s the word I was looking for.” She agreed, and giggled a little.  
  
“Thanks, Harding.” Velelan nodded, taking the envelope that she offered. Casually, he turned it over, and noticed that aside from Dorian’s name and location, the envelope was blank. There was no official seal of any kind either. Official letters always included where they came from as well as where they were going, even when carried by birds over great distances.  
  
The handwriting that Dorian’s name was written looked strangely familiar. Where had he seen that before?  
  
 _…Halward Pavus?_  
  
Sneering, disgusted, Velelan didn’t even think. He opened the letter and let the empty envelope drop to the floor. Whatever this was, Dorian was probably better off not even seeing it.  
  
The handwriting inside was different, completely different from the letter sent by Dorian’s father that Velelan had seen last year.  
  
 _Dorian,_  
  
 _Your father has been a wreck about what happened in Redcliff. Your mother has been avoiding the issue, and your name in general, but I know she thinks about you. Everyone is pleased to hear you helped silence that maleficarum, whose name has done nothing but shame our great country! I don’t understand your involvement with the inquisition, but your parents have done well to minimize the noise about it. I’m so glad you’re coming home! It will be an honor to see you again!_  
  
 _Signed…_  
  
The signature was illegible, but not important.  
  
 _…Dorian was… going home?_  
  
Velelan was sure he hadn’t heard a word of that. And this was the reply to Dorian’s apparent statement about considering leaving. Letters would have taken weeks to exchange from Tevinter, even with the fastest methods.  
  
Weeks, and Velelan hadn’t heard a word about it from Dorian. The last time Dorian had mentioned any desire to return home was nearly six months ago.  
  
If he was honest with himself, Velelan had been lead to believe that Dorian had all but forgotten that idea. It hadn’t even crossed his mind until now, but… it explained a lot.  
  
Dorian was going home. He… was leaving. Was he just going to up and leave without mentioning it? Was that the idea?  
  
Rage boiled up inside Velelan. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now.  
  
o-o-o  
  
Dorian was right where he could often be found. By the window, in the library, with his nose in a book. Velelan was shaking with the letter in his hand by the time he saw him. It took everything he had not to just throw the paper in his face.  
  
“What is this?” Instead he shoved it violently in front of the words Dorian was reading.  
  
Dorian’s eyes fell upon it, and he paused.  
  
“You’re leaving?” Velelan was overwhelmed with anger, and Dorian wasn’t reading fast enough. He wasn’t explaining himself fast enough. He should have already known what it said, and why Velelan was angry!  
  
Dorian began to speak, calmly. “You read a letter that was addressed to me?”  
  
“It looked like it was from your father! I was expecting some nonsense that I didn’t think you needed to see!”  
  
“What is it with you and butting into my affairs? This is the second time you’ve read my mail, as I recall.”  
  
 _“Dorian!”_ Velelan shouted,  was going to lose his head. _“Why didn’t you tell me you are leaving?”_ The whole library could probably hear him, and Solas below at his desk as well.  
  
“I’m not going anywhere!” Dorian shouted back, standing up, and setting his book aside violently. “This letter is from my father’s new suitor! I knew her when I was young and she twists everything you say to the way she wants! All I said in my reply was that I’d think about it when she requested I return! Even that I just said to get her to stop badgering me!”  
  
Velelan was taken aback.  
  
“I can’t believe you, storming up here with your confrontations, like you’re trying to catch me with my hand in the cookie jar? What has gotten into you?”  
  
Velelan’s face fell. “I just… thought…” He stuttered.  
  
Dorian was angry, his face twisted into something hard and irritated. “You could have asked me about it before shouting our dirty laundry for everyone to hear. I would have told you.”  
  
“Dorian…”  
  
“Leave me be.” Dorian barked. “I was in the middle of something.”  
  
And Velelan did. For the rest of the night, he let Dorian be. When he went to Cullen, it was because Cassandra was away at the Chantry, Solas wouldn’t understand, and he just needed _someone_ to talk to.  
  
But things took a different turn when Cullen took to long too arrive, and when he climbed up into the loft, he barely had time to speak before Velelan grabbed him.  
  
 **o-o-o-o Present o-o-o-o-o**  
  
Approaching Krem was difficult. Partly because he wasn’t sure what kind of road block he’d put in the way of he and Cullen, and partly because he was worried he might just get socked in the face again.  
  
But, he had a list of apologies. The Inquisition couldn’t go on like this— or maybe, he just couldn’t go on like this. And the last option was a lot harder than Krem was going to be. Krem was a cake-walk compared to that.  
  
It was even more difficult, because Krem saw him, and was eyeing him the moment he walked in. The look in his eye seemed to be daring him to approach.  
  
He gathered himself despite it, and did exactly that.  
  
“Can I talk to you?” He asked.  
  
“You’re not going to have me arrested, are you?” Krem returned that too quickly, and Velelan wasn’t sure whether to take it as playful or threatening.  
  
“No.” Was all he managed to say. Krem seemed to consider silently for a few moments, before he stood, and followed Velelan to a secluded corner of the bar counter, where he sat down next to him.  
  
“I… needed to tell you about Cullen.”  
  
“Cullen?” Krem snickered. “He’s not sending you to do his flirting now, is he?”  
  
Velelan paused, trying to process where that was coming from.  
  
“I thought we were passed that.” He sighed, as if disappointed.  
  
This was off. He was strangely calm now, but it didn’t change what Velelan needed to say. “I need you to know that what happened between us was completely my fault. I instigated it, and he… well, he probably knew I needed it. He was just trying to be there for me.”  
  
Krem was silent for just a few moments, his face was collected, until Velelan watched his eyes narrow slightly, and he looked away. That look— it was subtle but it was as if something had clicked.  
  
“So it was Cullen.”  
  
Oh. Maker. _He didn’t know._  
  
“Hm. My money was on Solas or Cassandra. Not literal money, but...”  
  
“But… you hit me?” Velelan was all sorts of confused.  
  
Krem scoffed. “You think I did that because of Cullen?” He snickered in disbelief. “No, I did that for Dorian, and you deserved it. You still deserve it.”  
  
“…Dorian?”  
  
“You didn’t know we’ve been friends, then? You’re pretty oblivious.”  
  
“I…” Well, he knew Dorian had been drinking with the chargers. But he didn’t know that they were to the level where Krem would punch out the highest authority in Skyhold for him.  
  
“So… he…”  
  
“Came to me.” Krem said. “Well, not to me. But he came, and I was there.”  
  
Velelan’s eyes widened. “Did you two?”  
  
“No.” Krem said fast, as if he expected that to be the next question. “When he told me what happened, I thought that might be what he needed. But he didn’t go there. Apparently he’s not like you.”  
  
Krem definitely knew how to be harsh.  
  
“So… he was upset?”  
  
“You expected… something else?”  
  
Well, of course he would have been upset at first, from the shock. Velelan betrayed him and he knew Dorian wasn’t going to thank him for it exactly, at least not right away.  
  
“What did he say?” Velelan wanted the awful truth.  
  
“He said a lot of things about you in Tevene that I won’t repeat.” Krem said. “…After he calmed down, he started talking about how he was disappointed. Couldn’t believe you, that you’re scum. Scum was good compared to what he was saying at first.”  
  
“Anyway, that was meant to be a private conversation, especially for you, so you’re not getting all the details.”  
  
Velelan nodded, and turned away. Silence befell them. He stared quietly at the wall across the bar, while Krem took swigs of a bottle of whatever he always had, casually.  
  
“If you feel as shit as you look, you should talk to him.” Krem finally said.  
  
Velelan sighed deeply, and shook his head. “No, I shouldn’t.” He said. “I mean… yes, I will, but not… I’m not going to ask him to come back.”  
  
“Not even going to try?”  
  
Velelan smiled, painfully. “If I do that, he _will_ come back.”  
  
Krem considered. “That’s a bad thing?”  
  
Velelan scratched his head, all of this sounded so much stupider when he said it out loud. But it was something he’d been feeling for weeks and that had to mean something. He couldn’t have been wrong.  
  
“He wanted out.” Velelan said.  
  
“What?”  
  
“He wanted out. Out of our relationship. I don’t think he knew how to go about doing it, or if he was even sure yet. But I… could tell. He’s used to people leaving him, or betraying him. He didn’t know what to do when he was the one who wanted to leave. He… thought it would be a betrayal if he did. He was staying in it because of loyalty alone, and I can’t stand that. So… I betrayed him, so he had an easy way out.”   
Moments of silence passed, until Krem finally spoke. “Well, aren’t you just a saintly chantry sister.”  
  
Velelan didn’t know what that meant, he just looked up slowly.  
  
“A complete asshole, too.” Krem said, and snorted. “Did you mention any of this to him before you crawled into Cullen’s bed?”  
  
“I tried, he never wanted to talk about it.”  
  
“Why didn’t you just leave him if you were trying to spare him the trouble? Why hurt him more by screwing someone else?”  
  
“Because I _couldn’t_.” Velelan growled. “I couldn’t bring myself to… say that. I… didn’t want… I still love him.” He meant to say want. _Wanted_. But it was already passed his lips, it was said. “And I was angry, so what I did seemed easiest at the time.”  
  
Seconds passed, and Krem sighed. “Look, I’m not like you.” Krem said. “I’m not going to claim to know what anyone else is thinking. But nothing of what he said that night sounded to me like he was relieved, or that he wanted it to be over.”  
  
These words mad a lump form in Velelan’s throat, and he stared at Krem as they came out, hating all the hope that came with them.  
  
“It sounds to me like you both might be daft idiots. You especially, but you should find him, and talk to him. He was more of a mess than you are, and that’s saying something.”  
  
Velelan was… entirely unsure.  
  
“Why are you still sitting there? You’d better hurry. He was drunk but he mentioned something about going home. That was days ago.”  
  
“What?” Velelan’s eyes tripled in size.  
  
“He was muttering things.” Krem shrugged, his expression suggested that he knew more than he was letting on, but Velelan didn’t have time to press further.  
  
“Shit.” He practically flew away from the bar counter, and ran out of the tavern as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn’t have a clue where he was going, but he knew he had to find Dorian. …There was a place he always was, but would he be there, or would he stay clear of his habitual places in order to avoid him? Was he even still in Skyhold?  
  
Velelan flew into the library, tripping over his own feet as he tried to stop, fully expecting him to not be there. But he was, and worse… he was the one who caught Velelan mid-fall.  
  
“Fasta Vass…!”  
  
“Fenedhis…”  
  
Their native tongue curses were simultaneous, and they both paused, Velelan still leaning on Dorian for support, Dorian’s arms still around him.  
  
Velelan looked at him, and he must’ve stayed for a moment too long, because Dorian quickly shoved him off, and turned to face the bookshelf he’d been eyeing before, effectively giving him the cold shoulder.  
  
Velelan nearly fell on his ass, but he caught himself on the railing. He was happy… he was happy to see that he was still here, doing what he always did, looking how he always did. But… it was clear that he wasn’t ready to talk, but Velelan wasn’t sure if this could wait until he was.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he mustered all of his courage, stood up straight and said firmly. “I need to talk to you.”  
  
“Interesting!” Dorian answered quickly. “Because I don’t have a _thing_ to say to you.”  
  
Velelan’s eyes narrowed. “Hasn’t that always been the problem?”  
  
“Oh, maker, that’s funny, because I thought the problem was you sleeping around.” Dorian turned to face him now, eyes displaying the full-on rage that Velelan had seen before, but felt less intimidate by now. “Who was it, by the way?”  
  
“So you can kill him, bring him back as a spirit, and kill him again?”  
  
“Kaffas! Why are you making jokes?” He turned away again. His voice was low, and spiteful, full of malice. _“I don’t want you here.”_  
  
“That’s too bad.” Velelan said, harshly, surprising himself. He couldn’t see Dorian’s face but he could imagine his expression.  
  
“Look, I’m sorry for what I did. I’m telling you now that nothing I say is going to justify it. But I’m still in love with you, and I never…” His voice cracked— he was going so well and now… “…I never stopped.”  
  
Dorian’s posture went rigid as Velelan tried to keep himself standing on two feet.  
  
“I need to know how you feel, Dorian.” Velelan’s voice was desperate. “Or, felt. You never said anything. Not really.” His voice was shaking, and Dorian could hardly stand hearing it. He was glad he was facing the other way, so he couldn’t see his face.  
  
“I don’t deserve your honesty, but I’m asking for it.”  
  
Silence filled the room. The others in the library had long since cleared out— they seemed to have been expecting a fight after the last. They were the only ones there.  
  
“Love.” Dorian’s voice came slowly. Velelan blinked, not sure what he meant, or what to say back, or even if he was supposed to reply. He was more than relieved when Dorian turned around to face him.  
  
“You can’t just go spouting your feelings and expecting me to forgive you, you know.”  
  
Hope bubbled up in Velelan’s heard and he straightened himself. “I told you— I’m not here to justify anything. But I don’t expect things to go back to the way they were. I just want to know… how you felt with me. You never said.”  
  
“And that’s what lead to this.”  
  
“I’m not saying that—!”  
  
“But it is.” Dorian interrupted. “You said it earlier.”  
  
Velelan shut his mouth, realizing that yes, he had said that.  
  
“Hasn’t that always been the problem?” You said that, just a minute ago.”  
  
“I’m sorry.” Velelan shook his head. “I didn’t mean—,”  
  
“You didn’t mean to blame me, I know.” Dorian crossed his arms. “You apologize so much, do you realize it?”  
  
“I’m not going to apologize for apologizing if that’s what you’re expecting.”  
  
A smile cracked on Dorian’s face, just a small one, for a split second, but Velelan saw it, and he clung to it because it meant everything.  
  
“Amatus…” Dorian started, and something incredibly warm and comforting swam into Velelan’s heart as the word fell from his lips in a breath. He wasn’t sure Dorian had ever called him by his name, and he loved that. Sometimes he wondered if Dorian even knew his name, that made him want to laugh, and he loved it. He was Amatus to Dorian, and he loved that.  
  
“Dorian.” Velelan didn’t realize he was cutting Dorian off when he began to speak, but Dorian fell silent at the sound of his voice regardless. “I don’t want this to be over.”  
  
“Neither do I.” Dorian said quickly, and more and more relief was washing over Velelan with every new step this conversation took.  
  
“I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, but I needed you to know th—“  
  
“I forgive you.” Dorian interrupted him.  
  
Velelan’s mouth snapped shut, and his eyes widened, and then narrowed. “No.”  
  
“No?” Dorian scoffed, flabbergasted.  
  
“It can’t be that easy.”  
  
“And I’m telling you that it is.” Dorian glared. “Must we start a fight about everything?”  
  
Velelan scowled, and crossed his arms firmly, making a secure statement about where he stood. And then, a moment later, a chortle found it’s way between his lips.  
  
“Are you laughing?”  
  
Velelan broke out into small giggles that he was attempting to hold back.  
  
“Dear Maker, he’s gone mad…” Dorian vaguely wondered if he should tell someone.  
  
That turned his giggles into a loud, ridiculous sounding laugh, that that probably heard in the courtyard let alone the main hall.  
  
Near the end, and between laughs, Velelan sputtered out the words. “Dorian, I’m in love with you.”  
  
“Well that much is as obvious as your insanity!” Dorian barked.  
  
“Can I kiss you?” Velelan asked as he began to calm down.  
  
“Absolutely not!”  
  
Velelan smirked at him, and titled his head, as if to silently say please.  
  
“Oh, whatever.”  
  
As soon as the word left his mouth, Velelan launched himself forward against his toe and through his arms around Dorian’s midsection, pulling him hard against him, but not kissing him like he’d asked. Instead, he buried his face in Dorian’s hair, and breathed in deeply.  
  
“Ma venhan” He murmured against it. Dorian’s hands fell loosely against his sides, and he relaxed into him.  
  
“Amatus.” He answered.  
  
 **Epilogue**  
  
Velelan didn’t want the silence to be uncomfortable, but it was. He felt bad about it, because he imagined that Dorian was happy there, leaning against his shoulder, arms and legs wrapped around him, peaceful. But there Velelan was, needing something to fill it again.  
  
He looked down at Dorian’s face. His eyes were open. His thumb was drawing circles on Velelan’s upper arm. _After everything, can this really go on?_  
  
Dorian still hadn’t said what Velelan needed to hear.  
  
“Why did you think I wanted to leave?”  
  
Velelan was surprised at the sound of his voice, and his lips moving against his chest.  
  
“I… don’t know. I was insecure about a lot of things.” He lifted his hand and closed his fist in Dorian’s hair for comfort.  
  
“I do love you, you know.” Dorian’s voice was soft, and nervous, but clear. “I started doing that a while ago.”  
  
 “I… suppose I just wanted it to be obvious. The dashing hero that never says what he feels but everyone just gets it anyway.”  
  
Velelan laughed. “Is that what you were going for?”  
  
He felt Dorian smile against his chest. “Among other things.”  
  
“You never told me what was on your mind.” Velelan said. “All those times you were acting strange, and you still haven’t.”  
  
Dorian sighed. “I was… thinking of visiting home, to be honest. I wanted to ask you to come with me. Not because I want to see a damn single one of them, but just to face everything I left behind and find out if I have the courage to try and fix it.”  
  
“You still want to do that?”  
  
“I want to steal a few years with you, first.” Dorian finished.  
  
“Just a few years…”  
  
“That’s not what I meant. I want forever with you, I just want a few years of peace before I start trying to do something with my life. I can’t really just be the Inquisitor’s bedwarmer forever, now can I?”  
  
“You completely could.”  
  
Dorian let out a short, sharp, “Ha!” and rolled over onto his back so his head was in Velelan’s lap. Their eyes met and a smile quirked at the corner of Velelan’s lips. He brought his hand back up to Dorian’s hair and started tugging gently at the small strands.  
  
“I wish you would have told me that.”  
  
“I probably should’ve.” Dorian shrugged. “Then again I hadn’t the slightest idea what kind of ideas were going on in your head. But, it was careless of me. I’m sorry.”  
  
Velelan accepted the apology silently by stroking down Dorian’s hair.  
  
“Don’t ever tell me who you went to that night.” Dorian’s face suddenly soured. “I probably would kill them and then bring them back just to kill them again.”  
  
Velelan knew it was meant to be a joke, but he couldn’t bring himself to laugh. “It wasn’t his fault… it was completely me.”  
  
“Men are responsible for their actions, and I’d still murder him. Or at least glare death at him from across the room at all hours of the day.” His brow began to furrow. “Ugh, I hate the idea that someone else here has touched you right under my nose.” He shook his head in disgust. “How far did it— …nevermind, I don’t want to know. Please. Never do that again.”  
  
“I can’t say I don’t appreciate the jealousy.” Velelan snickered, just a little.  
  
“Of course I’m _jealous_.” Dorian sat up, glaring at him, straight into his eyes. “I’m in love with you.”  
  
Velelan leaned in slowly, carefully, and kissed him gently. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Dorian probably eventually figures out it was Cullen just because of the way Cullen starts behaving all awkward and nervous around him. He probably confronts Cullen about it and Cullen hides behind Krem who is mostly uninterested and slightly amused.


End file.
